


It's not what it looks like

by Zeffy



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeffy/pseuds/Zeffy
Summary: Season 4, Quinn and Carrie are working together (and arguing), and the whole team is around to observe it...“You wanted some hugs, you got them, why am I guilty, all of sudden?”“I wanted it? Really. That's what you think?”“Clearly it was your initiative.”“Oh shut up. You’ve wanted to fuck me for ages. Finally got a chance to get closer.”“Fuck you, Carrie. I don’t want you, it's your wild imagination.”





	It's not what it looks like

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to SNQA, Frangi and Laure for their help. ♥ you girls!

It was a surveillance operation on one of Ghasi’s men. CIA gave the guy a code name – Maelstrom, but Parvez preferred to call him Clusterfuck, because of the amount of trouble the guy caused to all their team. This time Parvez was the night shift, and he was sitting in the darkness behind the monitors in their hideout – an empty apartment for rent in the building next to the Maelstrom’s place. 

Parvez let out a sigh of relief when everything was at last quiet and peaceful and he was left alone. It’d been a hell of a day. He was chasing Clusterfuck throughout the town and had lost him four times in three hours, and he was exhausted and pissed. And also, there were his so-called bosses, Carrie Mathison and Peter Quinn. Those fuckers were unbelievable. They were fighting all. the. fucking. time. His head hurt - he felt himself caught between a rock and a hard place hundred times a day on ordinary day, but that day was special, they were breaking the record. 

Another screaming match had just ended. Carrie was insisting that they were out of time and the Clusterfuck guy should be brought in. Quinn was no fan. Technically, Carrie Mathison was his boss, but Peter Quinn didn't give a fuck. This time, Quinn won. Maelstrom was still out there (and needed to be watched – so there went Parvez’s long awaited beer at the bar and good night’s sleep). Come to think of it, if it was only Carrie (and no Quinn in sight), they'd have gotten the guy, because that's what she wanted. If it was only Quinn (and no Carrie in sight) they'd also probably have gotten the guy, because he’d be more than willing to take some small risk and get this thing done once and for all. Chances that the dude would lead them to someone interesting were next to none, he wasn't high enough on the food chain. 

 

So, it was all about Quinn and his absolutely improper and ridiculous protectiveness. Literally, people were laughing behind his back, because if someone needed protection in their team, that wasn't Carrie Mathison, the hard-ass station chief. More likely, everyone else needed to be protected from her rage. Yeah, some CIA operatives at their station would prefer real danger over their boss’ hissy fit. 

 

Seriously, those two, Carrie and Quinn, were a huge pain in the ass. Right now, they went to catch some sleep after an awkward “who sleeps where” argument – Quinn was going to sleep on the floor, although there was a huge mattress, wide enough to fit four people (the whole team slept on it just couple of nights ago), but who could blame Quinn for his wish to be as far as he possibly could, after all that fighting? Carrie, of course, yelled. It is stupid, Quinn, I won't eat you up, Quinn, don't embarrass me, Quinn, it's childish, Quinn. All that stuff. Parvez knew it was an awesome gossip material but this time didn't really want to know how it ended. He felt like had enough of that shit for a lifetime, let alone that day. At least, the Clusterfuck guy behaved: he went to sleep and hopefully wasn't going to disturb Parvez till the morning. So, Parvez put on his headphones and soon his attention was absorbed by a computer game. 

Few hours later, that passed really quickly, it was the end of his shift. After making sure that their object was still in his bed sound asleep, Parvez made some coffee and stretched tiredly. His mood got remarkably better: he was savoring the game success and anticipating to get – finally – home and have some rest. 

Time to wake up the dream team. He opened the door and was just about to open the window blinds, but this moment his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room and he almost choked on his coffee. 

Those two were sleeping in each other's arms, like a couple on a honeymoon. Her head on his chest , legs entwined, and above all, he was holding her hand, ridiculously sweet and tender gesture, and the whole picture was just so absurd that Parvez rubbed his eyes and pinched himself to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep on his watch and wasn't having a weirdest dream ever. 

He had so many thoughts, but – priorities. He took his phone out of his pocket and switched to the camera.

After, he got out silently (making sure Maelstrom on their screens was still in his bed), walking out of the apartment and locking the door from the outside. Then, from safe distance, he called on Quinn's phone to wake them up. 

And now, he had a very important thing to do. 

***

Parvez: *sends the photo to everyone*

Parvez: Ha, I knew it I knew it I knew it!

Redmond: He-he, it was a safe bet.

Quinn: What the fuck Parvez? 

Parvez: I knew it.

Quinn: What bet?

Qadir: Quinn, congrats, buddy. Finally.

Quinn: Huh?

Redmond: You guys fucked. Just admit it.

Quinn: What?!?!

Quinn: No. No we didn't.

Parvez: Stop this bullshit, Quinn, you were caught.

Redmond: He-he. The pic says it all.

Quinn: Parvez, I will find you and kill you.

Quinn: The pic says nothing.

Redmond: Come on, it was a matter of time. We all knew it would happen.

Quinn: It's not what it looks like.

Hensleigh: Quinn says they didn't fuck and I believe him.

Quinn: Thank you, Hensleigh.

Quinn: Everyone else, I’m gonna kill you.

Redmond: Hensleigh, only you can be that naïve to bet your money against it. Just admit that you’ve lost.

Hensleigh: I’m not naïve.

Quinn: What the hell are you talking about?

Quinn: Hensleigh??? I don't wanna kill you buddy. Just explain the bet thing and you are safe.

Hensleigh: They took stakes that you and Carrie would fuck this month. 

Quinn: Really? 

Redmond: Hensleigh, you are naïve. 

Hensleigh: Come on. They hate each other. They yell all the time. 

Quinn: We do hate each other and we didn't fuck.

Hensleigh: See?

Redmond: I’m rolling my eyes so hard right now.

Parvez: It was just a foreplay, Hensleigh.

Qadir: By the way, where is Carrie? Occupied? Something in her hands right now?

Fara: Yuck, Qadir. Stop it, that's rude. 

Fara: Quinn, Carrie, I’m so happy for you guys! Congratulations! 

Fara: Gonna go tell Max that he lost.

Max: I’m right here. 

Carrie: Fuck you, everyone.

Carrie: Max, you too? I'm disappointed.

Redmond: Yeah Max, I didn't expect such a failure from you. Of all the people! You should have known better.

Max: I thought Carrie would fuck Khan.

Redmond: Hm…

Carrie: What?

Quinn: What?!?!

Fara: I told you Max, she would choose Quinn. So romantic! You are adorable, guys.

Qadir: One doesn't necessarily exclude the other. Just saying.

Parvez: Right. Should we make another bet on Khan? 

Fara: Shame on you, people. 

Qadir: I bet she'll spend a night at his fancy house sometime.

Max: I’m in.

Fara: Max? Now? When they are together?

Quinn: We are not together.

Hensleigh: They are not together. But Khan? Where is this coming from? Carrie would never…

Redmond: Pffff. 

Redmond: How can you even be a spy, Hensleigh? You are such a dummy.

Carrie: You are all fired. 

Martha: Hi everyone!

Parvez: Quinn, your girlfriend is grumpy. You're probably doing something wrong.

Quinn: You are all dead.

Martha: The picture is so nice! I love it.

Qadir: Quinn, if you need any advice about making ladies happy, we are here for you. Also, porn is really helpful.

Quinn: DEAD. All of you.

Martha: Qadir, sweetheart, behave. We are all adults here. Let's talk business.

Carrie: Yes, thank you Martha. Are we sending them off today or waiting for tomorrow?

Martha: Let's not take hurried decisions, Carrie. Come to my place this evening, we’ll drink some wine, relax, chat...

Carrie: About what? It's a done deal.

Hensleigh: I’m on your side! Don't fire me! Please!

Redmond: Coward.

Martha: Nobody is fired, don't worry.

Carrie: No, this won't do. I'm not going to work with them.

Martha: We can't work without a team, Carrie. Everyone is staying.

Carrie: Oh well. You know what? FUCK THAT SHIT!

Quinn: She just threw her phone against the wall. 

Quinn: Tiny pieces scattered all over the place. Just saying.

Quinn: Imagine what she will do with all of you. Before I kill you.

Hensleigh: I did nothing wrong.

Redmond: Stop whining, Hensleigh. You are the definition of wrong.

Redmond: Martha, what about our money? 

Martha: I need to make my calculations. Bear with me.

Quinn: What the hell, Martha? You organized the whole thing?

Martha: What? No. I'm the Ambassador. I don't care who is fucking who. I have serious business to deal with.

Redmond: She did.

Martha: John! 

Martha: I’m not confirming anything.

Martha: Quinn, great job anyway. We were all rooting for you. 

Qadir: What about our Khan bet?

Martha: It is so unethical. We are not doing this.

Parvez: Yeah, right. That's unprofessional.

Martha: Totally ;)

Martha: Quinn, honey, can you please ask Carrie – just hypothetically – does she like Khan? 

Quinn: You are all crazy. 

Quinn: Shit! Our guy is going out. 

Parvez: Team on the street got him. 

Parvez: You guys can continue fucking. You have absolutely nothing else to do.

Qadir: He-he, Parvez locked them in there. 

Fara: Aww. 

Max: I want to place the bet on Khan.

Fara: Max!! 

Martha: Note taken. 

Max: What? I'm on Quinn's side, but I’m also a realist. 

Martha: The man is hot, we have to give him that.

Fara: Excuse me, but Quinn is hot too! He is hotter! 

Quinn: Thank you, Fara.

Martha: He sure is, Fara. But we girls like to compare, don't we? 

Martha: I’m sure Carrie will back me up on this.

Redmond: Dick challenge!

Martha: You can't blame us, boys. That's your favorite sport anyway.

Quinn: I’m not listening to you.

Parvez: Quinn, do your best, man. I'm going to put my money on you.

Martha: Ok, guys, back to work! Quinn, you too. 

Martha: If you know what I mean. 

***

Obviously, Carrie was mad. She was pacing around the small apartment – the surveillance room, the improvised bedroom, then the kitchen, and all over again – round after round, randomly cursing on her way. Quinn was sitting quietly behind the kitchen table, head in his hands, - the kitchen was the only room with actual furniture - listening to all these “fuckers” and “unfuckingbelieveable” exclamations from different parts of their hideout, and waited. Soon she joined him on the chair on the other side of the table, mimicking his posture.

The silence stretched for a long minute. 

“Ok”, she said, finally. “This is all your fault.”

He couldn't believe his ears.

“My fault? Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I'm kidding?”

No, she looked mad as fuck.

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Oh, don't fuck with me. You know what.”

“No fucking clue.”

“All this”, she gestured at his phone. “They gossip about us now! They take pictures and laugh. I'm a station chief, people need to take me serious.”

“Oh, for fuck sake, Carrie.”

“What?”

“People are taking you seriously. They are terrified.”

“Well, not after the picture where their boss is in bed with her chief of support. They’d think that's my way of dealing with work disagreements.”

“Okay.”

“It's not okay at all!”

“You wanted some hugs, you got them, why am I guilty, all of sudden?”

“I wanted it? Really. That's what you think?”

“Clearly it was your initiative.”

“Oh shut up. You’ve wanted to fuck me for ages. Finally got a chance to get closer.”

“Fuck you, Carrie. I don’t want you, it's your wild imagination.”

“Oh no you do.”

“Dream on.”

“You are not good at hiding it, you know. Good that you are not a spy…. Oh, wait...”

Quinn's phone beeped. 

Martha: Sorry to interrupt you guys, but Quinn, honey, I really need to know what Carrie thinks about Khan.

Quinn: Carrie is not interested. She is into me.

“What's on there?” Carrie asks, trying to take a look at the screen.

“Nothing.” He shoved his phone deep into his pocket.

Obviously, it just stirred up her curiosity. She went to find her own phone, the one she had smashed into the wall – and there it was, on the floor near the mattress, in one piece, only the screen had cracked, but when she switched it on, it loaded without any trouble.

Carrie: I am totally interested, Martha. Please, let me out of here and I will go and fuck Khan right away.

Carrie: And I’m not into Quinn at all.

Quinn: Fine. Open the fucking door. I'm going to go see Astrid.

Martha: Astrid? Who is Astrid?

Carrie: His imaginary girlfriend?

Martha: Guys you have to do something with all this tension. 

Carrie: There is no fucking tension!!!

Martha: Yeah… exactly. Good luck. Over and out.

“Astrid is not imaginary. She works in the German Embassy and…” – Quinn was shouting from the kitchen and on his way to the bedroom, as he hurried there.

“Whatever.”

“And you will not fuck Khan, he is involved in all this shit we are dealing with here.”

“Not necessarily, but that would be even better. To keep him close.”

“For fuck sake, Carrie!”

“What? Small sacrifice for the country,” she smirks.

“Why are you so sure Khan will agree?”

“Because.”

“Because what? Not all the men around here want you, Carrie. Try to keep that in mind.”

“What's your problem, huh? Why do you care?”

“I don't. You can fuck as many men as you want.”

“Sure.”

“As long as they agree, obviously.”

While she was rolling her eyes, both their phones beeped again.

Qadir: Quinn, buddy, you are not doing great there. I'm worried.

Quinn: Fuck off, Qadir.

Qadir: *Sends a YouTube link*

Quinn: WTF is that?! National Geographic porn?

Carrie: Lions fucking? Really?

Qadir: Thought it would set the right mood. Trying to be helpful. 

Quinn: You are completely out of your mind. 

Carrie considered throwing her phone against the wall again, but then just sighed annoyedly and sat down.

“I work with assholes,” she said.

“One thing we can agree on.”

“I mean you, too.”

“Oh sure. I don't want you and that makes me an asshole. Obviously.”

“Jesus.” She rolled her eyes.

“You are just not my type. No offense.”

Carrie was getting tired of this stupid argument. 

“Not your type,” she said, with the hint of threat in her voice, and then she walked toward him. He was leaning casually against the window-sill, in their so-called bedroom. She stepped closer, really close, standing between his stretched legs. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, staring at her nonchalantly.

“Not your type,” she repeated quietly, looking in his eyes. And leaned in to kiss him, before he could answer. 

He didn't kiss her back. Just stood there, still, not reacting, for good ten seconds. Carrie started to feel stupid and she backed away, ready to give up, ashamed, but something tiny and vague in his facial expression made her give it another try. 

This time, he made a mistake by parting his lips, and she used it to intensify… things. She got a little carried away while nipping his lips and running her tongue against them, pulling him closer with her hands on his nape. He sighed, just lightly, and she broke the kiss to check the effect. He quickly moved his arm around her back, to her waist, not to let her step back.

“Still not interested?” She smiled.

“No,” he breathed, and kissed her in earnest, with right pressure and right amount of tongue and with so much desire that she lost herself in it. As the kiss grew more heated, his hands roamed up and down her back, moved under her shirt, to her belly, behind the waistband of her jeans.

They moved down to the bed, and as he was fumbling with the buttons of her shirt, kissing her neck, she asked:

“And now?”

He stopped for a second, focusing on her face, trying to concentrate on her question.

“Still feel nothing,” he answered, breathing a bit unsteady.

“Oh… Yeah me too,” she said, suppressing a moan as he sucked in her nipple. 

“It's clear we don't want each other”, he said, taking off her jeans and underwear hurriedly.

“Yeah I know…. Fuck!” She choked as he teased her with his fingers. 

“Quinn, please…”

She helped him to get rid of his clothes and soon they both were groaning and panting mess on the bed. 

“Fuck, Quinn… Oh my God,” she sighed, a little later, settling beside him, sweaty and breathless, as he stretched on his back. “I didn't like it at all.”

“I think we have proven to have no sexual chemistry whatsoever.” She could hear his heart beating wildly as her head lay on his chest. “But we should try it at least three times - to make sure, you know?”

“Yeah… Right. You know what I’d hate?” 

“What?”

She starts to kiss his neck, trailing down his chest. “This.” She moves further south. “And this.”

“Oh… oh fuck, Carrie… just…”

***

Parvez: Fucking yet?

Parvez: How many times?

Parvez: What positions?

Parvez: Oh come on guys. You can't fuck this long. Come here and yell at me!

Parvez: I’m starting to feel a bit lonely.

Parvez: Guys?..

Parvez:*Sigh*


End file.
